|| NIGHT 037: GENERAL
As night arrives in the houses the clock chimes, the tones loud and oppressive, echoing into the furthest corners of each room. The noise fades as darkness falls fully.
The night is still. For a moment, little happens.
In the First House it starts with the quietest of sounds. The faucet in the Blue Kitchen begins to drip. At first it barely registers, though all who enter the house will hear it. But as the first hour of the night goes on, the noise grows in both irritation and strength.
It begins to affect the world around them; the distant plop causes visual distortions in the wall, rippling outward as though the water has struck. The noise nags at them if they try to sleep, chasing them as they remain awake. They feel almost as though they have been immersed in the water, and might begin to be surprised to find that they are not at all damp.
The noise is insistent; the faucet will not stop dripping, no matter what the house-guests attempt to do to it. Those that focus on the noise will find that the noise grows within them; overwhelming the sound of their heartbeat and breathing until there are moments they forget that they are alive. Surely the water has dragged them under, has pressed the air from their lungs and left them entirely empty again.
They forget to breathe, overwhelmed by the noise, remembering only when their heads grow light and their bodies demand the air.
As dangerous as the noise is, it is not the only threat that those within the first house will face tonight.
Whispers fill the air around them, snatches of conversations and familiar voices creeping into their minds. The voices make little sense, and the sentences never finish. The sound of them barely makes it through the overwhelming press of the water.
Those who venture downward into the Hospital Wing will find a gruesome scene laid out in front of them. The Nurse has had her throat slit, bloody body lying over the desk, dark blood dripping to the floor in a slowly widening puddle around her chair.
Other figures have been gruesomely dispatched in the waiting room, though most do not appear familiar. The Surgery Ghost is curled in a corner, covered in blood but still twitching faintly as though he still clings to life.
More Nurses have been killed past the doors, bodies fallen and bloody. Each has been dispatched in the same way, blade drawn from left to right, neatly severing the major arteries in the neck. It starts at a higher angle, and ends nearly at the shoulder.
At the furthest end of the Hospital Area stands a dark haired child, just outside of the door of the Surgery Room. She faces away from the house-guests, in her hand is a bloody knife, the blood dripping off the point of the blade.
She vanishes with a sigh as they grow closer. The door to the Surgery Room is solidly locked. On the other side of the door, someone sobs and begs for someone to stop. The voice goes from pleading to screaming in a matter of moments, rising high above the whirring sound of machinery working.
For those outside the door, the voice sounds intimately familiar.
In the Heraldry Bedroom a man sits on the bed. His hair is closely cropped to his head, and a sword lays across his lap, the blade flickering with the barest hint of flame. He rises as the door opens, mouth moving as though he challenges the person that enters the room. The sound of the water dripping drowns out the sound of his voice, and he seems to get angry as they do not respond to whatever he's saying. After the third attempt to communicate, he will strike.
His blade is quick, and most who enter will fall to it. It is very unlikely that those who enter will leave unharmed.
The Ballroom is full of sound and whirling dancers, visible from the floor above. The music is off key, or perhaps it only interact with the sound of the water dripping badly. Whatever the reason, the music grates on those in the upper story and outside of the room. It raises the hair on their arms and sets their teeth on edge.
Entering the room is instantly fatal.
In the Glass Bathroom a puddle of water is slowly spreading outwards. The shower is running, though the door is open to allow the water to spray outside. The Drowned Woman sits in the bottom of the tub, her arms wrapped around her knees and her face hidden from view. She gurgles from time to time, but makes no attempt to move from the spray.
The water is icy cold, causing frost to form on the glass where it falls. The breath of the house-guests who remain in this room for long will quickly become visible.
Sirens have made a home for themselves in the Journey Bedroom. There are five of the ladies, all singing softly to each other. One lays with her head in another's lap, wings spread out on the bed as her hair is played with. Their song is alluring, as always, and seems to mesh pleasantly with the sound of the water.
It would be easy to join their game, so long as one is female, though those women who do might find it impossible to leave.
The Study is open once more, though the Mother's Ghost sits in the nursery. In her arms in a child, though the babe is in obvious distress as the woman rocks it, crying and screaming without ceasing for a moment. She hums to herself and to the child, a jarring, tangled note that dose little to soothe those who drift near.
Anyone who enters the room will hear the sound of footsteps behind them, though the next thing they will be aware of is the dusty floor of the Attic.
Thancred will wake in the Carpenter's Bedroom though he will not remember falling asleep or arriving in that location. Curled against his legs is the young girl Claire, her eyes closed and face relaxed in peaceful sleep.
The Boy Twin haunts the hallway outside the room. His eyes are once more stitched shut, and his ragged clothes have been accented with a heavy, iron cuff around the wrist that was one held by his twin. He will shush anyone who enters the hall, silencing the sound they make as well as the grating noise of the water dripping.
Throughout the Second House, light does not seem to be working properly. Individual light sources, lamps in the hallway, and room lights seem dim and indistinct -- the area unnaturally dark enough to require guests to strain to see. Until, that is, they come closer to one of the lights. What had seemed hazy suddenly becomes near-blinding bright, and the constant shifts from almost too dim to almost too bright make it difficult to find any place where one's eyes can adjust.
On top of that, surfaces in the house seem to have taken on a life of their own. The colors and patterns of walls, floors, and ceilings all seem more sharperly defined, more vivid than normal, and they shift and twist -- an effect that intensifies if a guest tries to study the movement. There is no discernible rhyme or reason, but even a peripheral view is mildly disorienting, and looking directly at it will induce an increasing feeling of vertigo and nausea.
The image portrayed by the mirrors lacks these distortions; reflections seem to be normally lit, without the unnatural squirming, although something still feels namelessly off about the colors of things. Guests will find that their reflections within this house are distorted, showing them at their worst, with any possible visible reminders of past crimes and shames. If they linger too long, blurred, faceless shapes come into view in the reflection creeping behind them -- but turning to look finds nothing there.
The flickers of movement, as if something else is in the halls and rooms, is not limited to the mirrors; throughout the house, anyone within it will catch after-images on the edge of their vision, usually indistinct figures that always vanish when one tries to look directly at them.
There are a few exceptions to this; those within the Glass Half Empty room will find faded images lingering in the room of those they've known and lost, people they've disappointed in the past everywhere except where they try to focus their attention. The only answer the apparitions seem to give to any attempts at communication is to turn away, head bowed.
Within the Fake Bedroom a very different set of intangible figures has taken residence, also vanishing whenever a guest tries to focus on them -- but these doppelgangers are in their exact image, save for a blank, featureless face; they lurk furtively out of direct view as if stalking.
The shapes become distinct again within the Wallpaper Parlor, this time in the shapes of family members and close companions absent; the images all seem bloody and battered, flinching away from guests and fleeing their sight as if terrified of them, but unable to leave.
The one place a guest may find themselves able to study these lingering images is in the Chapel, where the ghostly shapes of the congregation fill the pews. The phantoms all seem to be mutilated, yet they sit in the seats upright, attention fixed on the altar expectantly. The candles within are harsh, with an even sharper contrast when passing through, as if the shadows and darker corners are fighting to overtake them. Occasionally someone might catch a glimpse of someone they should know within the assembly, but never more than a brief glimpse.
The entrance to the Catacombs is a wall of darkness that almost looks as though it should be tangible, although there is nothing solid about it. Entering it quickly finds the area pitch dark and easy to become lost in; any light source attempted is extinguished with barely a flicker, making no impact on the gloom. Despite the lack of any light to see by, the darkness seems to twist and form shapes, pressing in around anyone wandering in it.
The Bell Tower rings erratically through the night, audible throughout the Second House. Investigating the sound will find none present to pull the rope, with the bell giving off odd flashes of light and glittering sparks every time it clangs; watching it for any length of time seems to worsen the difficulties ever truly adjusting to either the dark or the light within the house for a few hours after leaving.
Within the Courtyard, the scraggly grass and trees that grow around it twist and writhe unnaturally, as if desperately grasping for something out of reach. Flickers of foxfire glow dance across the open area, shifting patterns much like the wallpapers within the house enough to make the entire yard seem to tilt and wobble. If the plants are approached closely enough, they will cling and tug at guests for brief moments; they will not restrain anyone so caught for more than a second or two, but they can leave faint scratches, and a lingering sense that something vital is missing down to even the memory of what it should be.
The Twisted creep through the yard, using the foxfire as distractions and seeming unhindered by the plant life; misshapen forms haphazardly slapped together from bits of bodies, some parts recognizably human or bestial, others twisted claws and limbs that have been warped too far to trace their source. They will stalk and assault guests that linger in the courtyard for more than a minute or two, pursuing partway down the wind tunnel or to the chapel's doors in packs of two and three. A few of them seem to have been trapped indoors, wandering the hallways heedless of the strange effects. While they're hesitant to ambush groups of three or more and will stalk for a time before attacking, they will make attempts to pick off lone guests or any that look injured or vulnerable. Curiously, they also avoid the Catacombs, stopping at the threshold of the unnatural darkness that has overtaken it.
On entering the Third House, the guests will feel a prickle in their skin, their hair standing on end for just a moment. It's similar to the sensation of being watched, but it settles soon enough, seemingly brushed off as nothing -– but the longer the guests stay in the house tonight, the more aware they will feel of themselves and their bodies, that first little prickle of something now a persistent sensitivity to touch. The feeling starts to cease on exiting the building but will return any time a guest enters the house, stronger and more difficult to shake each time until it's difficult to focus on anything other than the knowledge that they are or are not touching something or someone.
If any guests find themselves alone in any of the hallways, they might feel a breath against the side of their neck or close to the ear, like someone came up behind them to share a secret or maybe just a few intimate words. There is never anyone there if the guests turn around, but if they let the unseen and unheard person continue, they'll be treated to kisses and touches that eventually turn into insistent tugs towards the closest room, but the feeling of the other person will disappear completely as soon as the guest leaves the corridor.
The Gentleman's Lounge is filled with soft song tonight, as the Perfume Ghost sits on the stage, singing quietly and wordlessly but in such a way it catches the attention of anyone listening, whether they realize it or not. Though quiet and sometimes difficult to pick up on, the song is intoxicating in its own way and leaves the guests with an urge to touch -- themselves, other people or items doesn't seem to matter, and this urge can linger for quite some time.
The Foul Boy is prowling the Red Hallway tonight. As usual, he fixates on the feminine-looking guests, following them and complimenting them in the hopes of coming just too close to stroke their hair from their neck or press his hands to their arms to keep them in place. Anyone else he's not quite so almost-gentle with.
Anyone lingering in the Playboy Bedroom will find themselves feeling flushed and warm, although whether that's to do with the temperature in the room or something else is difficult to tell.
The east wing of the house is permeated by a sense of dizziness and imbalance. Whatever is causing it seems to cloud coherent thoughts and reason and bit by bit block out all senses but touch, leaving the guests with slower movements but more perceptive and alert to details like the texture of the walls and the fabric of their clothes against their skin.
The realization of what’s happening is slow and doesn't necessarily feel threatening; giving into the pleasant lull might prove a nice break from everything else, after all. The feeling gets stronger the closer the guests get to the Scented Bathroom, and staying too long in that room might cause them to faint.
The bed in the Satin Room looks like somebody left it just moments ago, impressions from a body left in the tangled sheets. They feel hot and cloying to the, touch and the air in the room feels similarly so -- almost a little sticky to breathe, practically clinging to the skin. Should anyone decide to lie down there's a sensation not unlike sinking, like the mattress is deeper than it reasonably should be, and getting beneath the sheets presses them further down into the bed, the blankets heavy and too warm.
Faint laughter filters out from the Hedonist Room so long as the door is closed. Opening it will reveal nobody there, even if items in the room might be changed or moved between visits. Whatever was worth laughing about is difficult to pin down, but there is a sense of lightness in the room that's contagious.
Together with an urge to lie down and stretch out on the soft, lush carpet, it's easy to linger, contented to stay like a cat in a sunspot -– despite the fact that the way the carpet fibres rub against skin and catch on the tiny hairs there starts to feel tickling, like pins and needles you can't quite shake. It's like their entire body is tingling after a while, something fluttering inside them and coming up just beneath the skin, leaving the guests pleasantly on edge.
In All Kitchens of the Fourth House, a variety of foods have been left out, all smelling enticing. They range from all varieties of cuisine and preferences. Strangely, none seem to taste quite right upon being eaten. There is always something just slightly off, but it is rarely identifiable.
In All Hallways of the Fourth House there are a number of Wallcrawlers. They are vicious and hungry tonight; the only reason they do not seem to be as dangerous as normal is that they have come to pose a threat to their own selves. From time to time a pack of them can be found tearing into one of their own, biting and tearing flesh as the thing screams in a high-pitched voice.
Upon scenting a house guest, however, they will leave the crippled thing to increase their food supply with fresh blood.
The Hoarder's Attic is filled with a scent so putrid as to leave a foul taste in the mouth. Any guest who stays for long will find their tongues heavy with the tangible rot in the air. Food and decay leave a distinct oppressiveness, and all who stay long will find themselves increasingly nauseous.
The Seedy Bar is empty of people tonight, and is unsafe. The bar seems wet and sticky, the surface of the counter drenched in wine and fermenting slowly, the wood rotting beneath layers of old liquid. The scent of the bar is much the same, and it leaves the burning taste of alcohol in the throats of any who linger for long. Houseguests find their minds becoming fuzzy as they wait, their thoughts becoming less and less clear. The effect only begins to fade upon exiting the bar, but it takes a long time for the last of the dulled thinking to fade away.
In the Cafeteria, the lights have gone completely out and all who enter are assaulted by a variety of smells. It seems as though all of the food and drink has been strewn around the room, leaving scattered bits of food and puddles of sticky sodas to slow any wayward traveller. Something can occasionally be heard rustling in through the mess, and anyone who focuses their eyes long enough to adjust will see something child-sized skittering from table to table, like an over-sized spider ducking for cover underneath the benches. It comes closer and closer every moment they spend trying to identify it.
Stay too long, and the Crawling Boy might just get you.
In the Fifth House, all the unfinished walls and rafters seem to shudder as the clock chimes. What follows is a low, subtle rustling as all around the half-built rooms, stains grow darker and dark, sticky fluids begin to leak from the wood, as though it were freshly cut and still full of sap. The air in its first few rooms smells sharply like evergreens, although there is something about the smell that is unpleasant and caustic rather than refreshing. Moisture clings to everything in the building, the many unclosed, unfinished openings to the outside paving the way for the last of summer's humidity to make its way indoors.
Down the Plastic Hall, fluffy pink asbestos has been yanked in tufts out of the exposed walling, lying scattered across the floors. Oral masks lie abandoned here and there as well, trampled flat and stained with dirty boot-prints and smears of dried, rusty red. Those venturing down the hall will find their eyes watering and nostrils stinging, with deep stabbing pains developing in their sinuses. Anyone remaining in the hallway for a long period of time will find themselves sweating, their thoughts wandering more and more to the pains and what might be causing them. Occasionally they may smell something heavy and coppery and feel something trickling down their nose -- but if they raise their hand to staunch it, will find nothing there. Leaving the area will cause these thoughts and sensations to fade.
In the Bachelor's Kitchen, there are signs that someone has been preparing food despite the limited resources. A basin full of cloudy water sits in the sink, next to a small pile of dishes still bearing gluey remnants of food after being rinsed hastily and then abandoned. A tiny, furred body floats in the basin -- a mouse that must have fallen in and been unable to climb back out again before expiring. Some half-empty bottles of cheap beer grace the fold-out tables and the air is heavy with the mingled scent of alcohol, stagnant water, and a decaying smell that seems too strong to just be coming from the mouse... a dark, dragging stain leading to the unboxed washing machine may be a more likely source.
The air in the Garage is stuffy and oppressive. Oil-soaked rags have been stuffed in any open vents or gaps in the wall, effectively plugging them. The smell of motor oil is strong, almost overpoweringly so. Occasionally the phantom hum of a car engine running can be heard. When this happens, the air grows hazy and thick; anyone in the room will find their vision growing fuzzy and encounter difficulty getting enough air in their lungs, no matter how deeply they breathe -- as though there's simply not enough oxygen. The compulsion to leave will be strong, and anyone who stays long enough will eventually lose consciousness and be unable to escape the room unless dragged or carried by someone else.
Very little about the Old Bedroom seems to have changed. It remains as stuffy as ever, the dust on all the surfaces thick and undisturbed. The only noticeable difference is the sweet, musty smell of old, melted hard candies and scented candles that permeates the air. Anyone entering and taking a whiff of the air will first feel a wave of fond nostalgia and a sense of security, even if they never held any particular associations with those smells. However, the longer they stay in the room, the stronger the smells seem to get, and will eventually be accompanied by a deep, throbbing headache and a growing sense of claustrophobia.
In the Forgotten Storeroom, all the previously dried, dessicated food seems to have reverted to a state of ripe, active decay. Fruit items are sticky and putrid, and jars of sauces and preserves once again full of liquid, their sides bulging with botulism. A small army of flies, rats, and other vermin are busy feasting on the bounty, and the smell of rotting food mingles stomach-turningly with that of animal waste.
The Mildewed Hallway, true to its namesake, is still coated in mold and mildew, though the smell of ammonia is multiplied a hundredfold. Getting down the hall without gagging is an impressive feat.
However, for all the unpleasantness above, it is in the lower floor that the conditions become truly unbearable. Exploring anywhere in the Leaky Basement exposes one to a growing stench of blood, urine, human faeces, and other unidentifiable organic smells. It gets stronger the closer one gets to the Ruined Apartment, and by the time anyone reaches the doorway, it is so intense that progress is nearly unbearable. Anyone able to withstand it long enough to peer in the door will be met with thick smears of red and brown coating all four walls and pools of sticky, half-congealed liquid staining the floor. The bundle in the corner is gone, but scraps of the ragged, stained cloth that bound it are scattered around the room. Further investigation is virtually impossible, as remaining in the doorway or room for longer than a few minutes will induce dizziness and vomiting.
The safe rooms tonight are Student Bedroom, Chapel, Fourth House Courtyard.
|| THREAT DOWN
First House
1. Front Door 2. Entry Way 3. Coat Closet 4. Parlor 5. Formal Dining Room 6. Blue Kitchen 7. Doll Bathroom 8. East Hallway 9. Library 10. Study 11. Dawn Room 12. Closed Closet 13. Nursery 14. Dollhouse Room 15. Dollhouse 16. The Crack In The Wall 17. Maid Hallway 18. Clean Bedroom 19. Dirty Bedroom 20. Closet Room 21. Smoke Room 22. Yellow Bedroom 23. Vanity Room 24. Ivory Bathroom 25. Door to Basement 26. Supply Closet 27. Ballroom 28. Oak Hallway 30. Theater 31. Backstage 32. Locked Door 33. Music Room
1. Hallway 2. Student Bedroom 3. Student Closet 4. Mirror Bedroom 5. Journey Bedroom 6. Fairy Bedroom 7. Red Bedroom 8. Mask Bedroom 9. Trophy Room 10. Gallery 11. Observatory 12. Sewing Room 13. Glass Bathroom 14. Perfume Bedroom 15. Library 16. Cherry Hallway 17. Thin Bedroom 18. Dark Bedroom 19. Light Bedroom 20. Loft Bedroom 21. Heraldry Bedroom 22. Mosaic Bedroom 23. Day Room 24. Narrow Hallway 25. Store Room 26. Open Bathroom 27. Blind Bedroom 28. Door To Floating Hallway 29. Corkscrew Stair
1. Basement 2. Dirt Hallway 3. Waiting Room 4. Doctor's Office 5. Supply Closet 6. Recovery Ward 7-11. Examination Rooms 12. Treatment Room 13. Surgery Room 14. Ward 15. Morgue
1. Main Room 2. Green Room 3. Half Bath 4. Small Kitchen 5. Garden Closet 6. Empty Hall 7. Radio Room 8. Carpenters Room 9. Painter’s Room 10. Shared Bath 11. Glass Blowers Room 12. Tapestry Bedroom 13. Dollmaker's Workshop 14. Pottery Room
Second House
1. Straight Hall 2. Public Restroom 3. Glass Half Empty 4. Fake Bedroom 5. Model Bedroom 6. Locked Door 7. Viewing Bedroom 8. Memory Bedroom 9. Photography Bedroom 10. Dark Room 11. Shelter Bedroom
1. Stairwell Room 2. Wallpapered Parlor 3. The Open Door 4. Plain Kitchen 5. Pantry 6. Dining Room 7. Hallway 8. Half Sized Bath 9. The Blank Library 10. ??? Room 11. Open Hall 12. Rose Garden 13. Chapel Courtyard 14. Priest's Room 15. Priest's Bedroom 16. Hallway 17. Locked Door 18. Rough Kitchen 19. Junior Dormitory 20. Bell Tower 21. Courtyard
Third House
1. Wind Tunnel Hallway 2. The Front Door 3. Sitting Room 4. Leather Study 5. Gentlemen's Lounge 6. Diamond Dining Room 7. Professional Kitchen 8. Stable 9. Locked Door 10. Orchard 11. Hanging Tree 12. Hot Springs 13. Locked Door
1. Red Hallway 2. Herbal Bedroom 3. Costumed Room 4. Bell Bathroom 5. Locked Door 6. Playboy Bedroom 7. Statuary Bedroom 8. Candy Store 9. Stalker Room 10. Satin Room 11. Scented Bathroom 12. Birdcage Room 13. Hedonist Room 14. Carved Parlor 15. Silk Room 16. Get Away Cabin 17. Vanity Bathroom 18. Velvet Bedroom 19. Wax Bedroom 20. Husk Bedroom
Fourth House
1. Hanging Hall 2. The Slaughterhouse 3. Meat Freezer 4. Cheese Room 5. Salt Room 6. Preserved Storage 7. Fresh Storage 8. Hallway 9. Distillery 10. Humidor 11. Cramped Stairs 12. Hook Hallway 13. Smoke House 14. Drying Shed 15. Hot House 16. Lift
1. Tea Room 2. Cafeteria 3. Entrance Hall 4. Courtyard 5. Bakery 6. Patisserie 7. Overstuffed Kitchen 8. Ladies' Room 9. Mis-sized Dining Room 10. Men's Room 11. Servant's Kitchen 12. Unidentified Restroom 13. Empty Kitchen 14. Opium Den 15. Seedy Bar
1. Checked Hall 2. Wine Room 3. Green Bedroom 4. Soft Bedroom 5. Carnivore Bedroom 6. Herbivore Bedroom 7. Sweet Bedroom 8. Chamber of Purification 9. Nasty Bathroom 10. Horrific Hotel Room 11. Locked Door
Fifth House
1. Outside Door 2. Plastic Hall 3. Bachelor's Kitchen 4. Garage 5. Abandoned Nursery 6. Boarded Room 7. Rough Hall 8. Old Bedroom 9. Bathroom 10. Pillow Room 11. Empty Bedroom 12. Patio 13. Poet's Room 14. Forgotten Storeroom 15. Mildewed Hallway 16. Broom Cupboard 17. Den 18. Unfinished Stairs 19. Workman's Room 20. Guest Bedroom 21. Lily Bedroom
1. Upstairs 2. The Nest
1. Leaky Basement 2. Ruined Apartment 3. Drained Parlour 4. Decaying Bathroom 5. Jammed Door
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allthekeys) wrote2014-09-05 08:43 pm
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Basement/Hospital - Reno and Urahara are poking around and currently trying to help the Surgery Ghost. Urahara's gonna attempt to Heal him in the next post which I'm assuming means .... rollllllllllll time?